


Gloxinia: Love at First Sight

by Jintard



Series: Tumblr Prompts [6]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Flower Language, Roman is the regular customer who spends all his money on flowers, Tumblr Prompt, Virgil is the quiet snarky florist, flowershop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 21:03:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13256568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jintard/pseuds/Jintard
Summary: Tumblr Prompt:Flower shop AU: (this is also a good way to incorporate flower meanings eg, buying certain colours/types for person to represent feelings etc.)





	Gloxinia: Love at First Sight

It was Roman’s self-appointed job to decorate his and his roommates’ flat with flowers every week. He also sent a few flowers to his mother every month, and of course had a bouquet ready for all his dates. He had yet to find the guy he was destined for, but not for a lack of trying.

He had frequented the small flower shop a block away from his flat for a year now and had found it superb for all his needs. He had of course studied up on flower language and always made very specific demands of the elderly manager. The smiling old man never had a bad word to say about it. Indeed, he and Roman had struck an amicable friendship, and he treated the theatrical man as somewhat of a grandson, always asking after his friends and family. Roman too had a special spot in his heart for the sweet grandpa.

However, today something was different. Roman had opened the door to the shop, the familiar jingle announcing his presence to the man behind the counter. He had been about to greet the old man, when he stopped in surprise, his heart skipping a beat.

Instead of Mr Sanders, a man Roman had never seen before was standing behind the counter, carefully tying together white heathers, christmas roses, azaleas and mixed zinnias. But Roman hardly paid attention to the bouquet. 

The man was skinny, almost frail looking, and had a terrible hunch, but something about him was utterly enchanting. Maybe it was the pale hands, those long fingers that treated the flowers so gently, as if they were the most precious things in the world. Maybe it was the slightly messy hair, with the fringe almost covering those deep, dark eyes. Or maybe it was the eyes themselves. Maybe it was the glittering darkness, the deep thought reflected in them, that after a second turned to him.

“Yes?” the man asked, and Roman was struck with how low his voice was. It sounded unused, almost gravelly, but somehow Roman still got shivers.

“Who are you?” Roman breathed, still reeling from the sudden shock the man had introduced into his system. The glittering eyes narrowed slightly, and the corners of the man’s lips tugged down.

“Not really your business,” he replied shortly. Roman immediately felt the numbing wonder slip away, and instead a feeling of indignation rose in his chest. He straightened up and gave the rude florist a light glare.

“As a frequent customer, I feel I have the right to know what happened to Mr Sanders.”

The man opened his mouth, probably about to say something along the lines off “I don’t care”, before he stopped and blinked. His eyes focused on Roman again and there was a brief flash of recognition.

“You’re… you’re that weirdo, Romano or whatever, right?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Ro-, _Romano_!?” Roman screeched, offended. “My name is Roman! Ro. Man.”

The florist seemed to suppress a smirk, and Roman immediately got the feeling that he had done that on purpose. Was it a test or something? Nonetheless, he was still feeling indignant, and he had yet to receive an answer as to where the sweet old manager was.

“Now, tell me! Where is that darling old man, and why has he been replaced by someone as wretched as you?” he looked around, as if waiting for the elderly florist to pop up from behind one of displays.

The man behind the counter sneered, before carefully starting to finish up the bouquet in his hands.

“Not that it is any of your business, but the old man’s in the hospital,” he muttered, gently adding some bells of ireland to finish off the bouquet. Roman’s eyes widened in horror at the news.

“ _What_!? What happened? Is the poor man alright? Which hospital? I need to go and visit!” he started babbling. pacing back and forth within the shop, the florist watching him with an unimpressed look on his face.

“Dude, chill. The man’s old. He broke his hip and has a few weeks off,” he tied a purple ribbon around his finished bouquet. “So you’ll have to be satisfied with little old wretched me.”

Something in the man’s voice caused Roman to stop pacing. He turned back to the florist and to the bouquet in his hands, finally calming down enough to put two and two together. White heathers for  _ protection _ , christmas roses for  _ calming anxiety _ , azaleas asked the receiver to  _ take care of themselves _ , mixed zinnias meant the sender was  _ thinking of an absent friend _ , and the bells of ireland were for  _ good luck _ .

Roman looked at the man in a new light. Those dark eyes looked warmly at the flowers in his hands, each one carefully picked out for the receiver, the bouquet full of thoughts and meanings and well wishes. 

_ “Oh, you remind me of my grandson!” the old man laughed, all the while spinning the yellow coreopsis into the bouquet Roman had ordered. Roman laughed too and leaned on the counter, looking at different ribbons he could choose from. _

_ “Grandson?” he asked absentmindedly. The man smiled warmly. _

_ “My daughter adopted him.Of course, after the accident, I was the one to raise him, but I think I did a good job,” he chuckled. “He can be quiet, and perhaps not the most social youngster you see nowadays. He always wears dark clothes and tends to be sarcastic more than anything else-” _

_ Roman looked up in bewilderment. _

_ “He sounds nothing like me!” he exclaimed, almost offended to be compared to someone so… drab-sounding. The florist picked up the bright orange bow Roman had chosen and tied it to the mother's day -bouquet. _

_ “Perhaps not on surface level,” he admitted, still smiling, “but both of you have big hearts. Both of you care for others, sometimes more than you should,” he gave Roman a wink. He was clearly referring to the amount of money that went into all these flowers, and the dent it left in Roman’s wallet.  _

_ “You can never care too much!” Roman laughed. “Though I admit, your grandson does sound interesting. What’s his name?” _

“Virgil?”

The man looked up in surprise, and Roman met his eyes, almost as surprised.  _ So this was the grandson. _

“How did-?” Virgil started.

“Your grandfather mentioned you. Those are for him, right?” Roman nodded at the flowers in the other’s hands. Virgil glanced down, and Roman could see a faint blush of embarrassment on his cheeks. The rush, from when he first saw the man behind the counter, returned.

The narrow, pale face, half hidden behind the flowers, was flushed. The eyes, barely visible from behind the hair and the pale petals, glittered and reflected the warm light coming through the windows. And that same light shone on his hair, making Roman notice the previously hidden faint purple highlights. Truly, the man was quite enchanting, in a way that was completely new to Roman. 

“Could I come deliver them with you?” he finally asked breathlessly. 

Virgil chewed on his lip for a second, before making a gesture somewhere between a nod and a shrug. He still had an embarrassed look to him, but a small smirk was lifting the corners of his mouth.

“Sure, _Romano_.”

**Author's Note:**

> I felt a bit absentminded while writing this. I hope you still like it!


End file.
